


Stand-In

by Milky Maelstrom (milkymaelstrom)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Crying, F/M, Sad, Sadstuck, Sexual Content, Unrequited Love, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-13
Updated: 2012-11-13
Packaged: 2017-11-18 14:04:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkymaelstrom/pseuds/Milky%20Maelstrom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once something is lost, it can never really be replaced.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stand-In

A loud thump rang out from the stark plasterboard as Dave was shoved into it as hard as his diminutive captoress could manage, which turned out not to be too hard at all. Her hands, the spindly, key-friendly digits, roamed his skin, crawling over every inch of flesh and cataloging the fluid bends and curves, and the thin, white scars of battles not-too-far-past. She was aggressive tonight, far more so than he had ever seen her, driven by a coal flame somewhere deep which he could only grasp for but never reach, a silent feeder shoveling in more fuel without even realizing it, and the identity of this feeder being all too apparent to Strider, who gulped nervously and drowned out the knowledge. 

Roxy nipped at his neck, his ears, and traveled down, resting first on her haunches, then her knees, plunging his elastic waistband to the floor before he could even raise a concern, not that he would. She felt through the thin fabric of his black boxer briefs and laid a warm, soft cheek on his exposed thigh, feeling how true it was that he was there and hers. 

His hand, strong and sword-weary, combed gently through her hair like some kind of concerned mentor or, dare he think it, father figure, always looking down at her deeds and coaching her every move. She had grown up without a single touch from another human, so it was to be expected that she knew nothing of social behaviors, much less pleasuring a man. He knew that she could pleasure herself, that was quite apparent from the few moments it took to bring herself to orgasm, both hands occupied as her face scrunched into strange but adorable expressions, then was blanketed in red blush as she realized he was watching. 

Now, as though she had been reviewing her notes and reading her flash cards, she was making every movement perfect, teasing him into a state of rocky arousal with only a few swift actions, like slices from a master's blade, cutting away those layers of cool stoicity until he was moaning loudly under his breath. She cooed and stroked and licked at the fabric of his briefs until he was oozing precum and pitching uncomfortably into the damp cloth with every barely restrained buck of his hips. 

Then, as though she knew just how to break him, she stood again and brought his mouth to hers, toying with his tongue. She whispered something in his ear, something distant and broad, but just the soft tones of her voice made him want to burst. He took her by the waist and pulled her in, rutting against anything that didn't give way, and motioned towards the bed to the best of his ability. She returned by pulling away, grasping his hands and striding backwards until her thighs hit the mattress and she fell back, her light hair splayed around her head like a medieval halo.

He skillfully wrenched off his shirt and pants and threw them aside, then fished up her skirt for the end of her tights until she shooed his hand and peeled both them both off to sink to the floor and pulled up her shirt to reveal a magenta, leopard-patterned bra which unhooked in the front. Dave helped her with the rest of her clothes until both were in the bare with nothing to hide, his manhood throbbing against the tender flesh of her thigh, waiting impatiently. 

“Are you sure?” Dave whispered from above her. 

Her answer was delayed, a heavy pause building between the two, but she made up for it with an enthusiastic nod, urging him into her. 

With a swift thrust, he plunged, striking a pained expression on her face that melted away within seconds, replaced not by a smile, but with a genuine face of lips-parted, eyes-closed pleasure, escaping her throat in soft keens. Dave worked himself into a steady rhythm, his knees hitting the edge of the bed and pushing it into the wall across with a quickening regularity. 

Though the build to their climax before stripping had seemed like ages, after he was within her, it seemed as though time had sped up. Their breathes hastened with his thrusts, as Strider became more wrapped up in the moment, sensory perceptions fading into a gray haze of pleasure until all he knew was that It felt good, and that he was there. 

But everything ceased as her small voice called up, a choking whimper to stop. He froze, being plucked uncomfortably back from the edge of his bliss into the real world again, one that felt cold and chaffing to his entire being. Looking down, the woman he had only moments before had bound with was now a sad husk of a girl, clutching at the covers to hide her shame. He pulled out of her, then stepped back as she groped for her shirt and pulled it on. 

“What...what's happening?”

“I can't. I just...” Roxy choked back her tears. 

Deciding a shirt and panties were enough to leave the room, she stood and headed towards the door, pushing past Dave without even a glance. Only when she was in the doorway did she stop and speak, not even turning around. 

“You may be so similar, and only different when it matters; you're straight, and you love me...but you can never replace him,” she now sobbed, tears running down to meet the white cloth of her shirt, “you can never replace my Dirk."

**Author's Note:**

> I've been meaning to write this short little fic for a while now. I originally wanted to make this larger fic about Roxy slowly filling the void she has for her unrequited love for Dirk with the next best thing, but couldn't bring myself to do it. Anyway, I hope to be writing more soon.


End file.
